


This is not what I dreamt it would be

by flyingonthewind



Series: A Soulmate Trilogy [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Soulmates, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 18:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8544028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingonthewind/pseuds/flyingonthewind
Summary: Raphael Santiago had always known that his soulmate would not be anything like what his mother had dreamt for him. Simon Lewis, on the other hand, had always dreamt of a soulmate that was nothing like what he got. But are dreams all that important? When real life is a thing that happens, and that you get to actually live?This is the second part of a series in which soulmates are found upon the touch of skin. Each part will have a different pairing at it's centre, though all three are linked and together they form a fuller story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, there. So this is the second part of this soulmate series. Feel free to let me know what you think. - It's always great hearing from you! In any case, I hope you enjoy the story.

The street was bustling around him, car horns honking, people milling past him like ants. None of them stopped just because he had. The world didn’t stop just because Raphael’s did. Warmth was still spreading from the spot on his hand that some stranger had brushed against in their haste to push past him. His wrist was burning sharply as his mark filled out, but he didn’t dare take his eyes from the masses around him. It had happened so fast. He hadn’t had time to see, hadn’t had time to stop him. His soulmate. 

Since he was a teenager, Raphael had known his soulmate would not be the bright eyed smiling young girl that his mother had always told him would one day complete his world. Instead, one of the faceless boys filling up his dreams would take her place. For the longest time Raphael had feared this day. Males were not meant to get involved with other men, no matter what their marks said. Homosexuality was a sin. The fact that it was your soulmate did not change that. At least that was what the church taught. His church. The one he had believed in and admired his whole life. 

He had never told anyone about his fears. When he had gone to college he had learned that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t need to be scared after all. He had had classes taught by top-researchers in the field of soulmate biology. He’d made friends who had had the same suspicions. He had seen the smiles on their faces when that suspicion was fulfilled. Had seen how their lives changed for the better. Even so, the fear was not easy to let go of. Yet here he was, on a busy New York street, ignoring that he had places to be, ignoring the grumble and shoves aimed at him as he stood rooted to the spot frantically scanning for the Avengers back pack and the curly hair he had just managed to take in before his soulmate had disappeared into the crowds at a near run. 

His heart jumped into his throat when he spotted a young man pushing his way through the crowds. A sharp furrow curved a vertical line above his nose as he focusedly and methodically scanned the crowd trying to sweep him along with them. His eyes swept over Raphael twice, taking no notice, as he pushed past. Raphael turned to watch as the same Avengers back pack was swallowed by the current of morning traffic. “Idiota!” he cursed himself as his body finally kicked into action, propelling after the kid that was, quite likely, his soulmate. “Excuse me,” catching up with the backpack was easy and he had reached out and grabbed the boy’s shoulder before he could second guess himself. “Looking for someone?” he asked with one eyebrow raised in question when the kid turned around. He really was still a boy, probably not even 20 yet. 

  “Yeah, actually, I think I just bonded…” his brown eyes searched Raphael’s face as his voice drifted off. “Well, shit,” he hissed, a look of surprise gliding over his face. He took a moment to check the crowd still pushing and pulling at them. “You?” his eyes found Raphael then slid down to the wrist Raphael had uncovered and was presenting to him. Raphael didn’t take his eyes of the kid’s face as he carefully cradled Raphael’s wrist in one hand. A look of pure wonder lit up his eyes as soft fingertips slid over where the mark was still burning against Raphael’s skin. A blinding smile took up his face. “It really is you!” he whispered reverently, his eyes swooping up to meet Raphael’s still intent on his face. 

Raphael’s heart was going a mile a minute and he kind of felt like he was going to be sick. His skin crawled and burned. All he could do was stare intently at the boy before him, his face frozen in a stiff mask. His soulmate was gorgeous. – Dark tousled hair, playful eyes behind black-framed glasses and pale, smooth skin. When he smiled, slightly pointed canines poked out. That smile already had Raphael’s heart in a firm grip. It was sliding of his face though, and the soft hold he had had on Raphael’s wrist slackened and fell away. 

 “Right, so. What happens now?” he was clearly withdrawing, his arms coming up to fold protectively over his torso and his eyes leaving Raphael’s face, instead fluttering over the morning rush. Raphael dazedly realized that he should probably do something. He carefully lifted a hand to gently brush a curl out of the boy’s eye. It fell right back. Well then. Points for trying and all that. The boy was watching him, a cautiousness hiding in the corner of his eyes. Raphael could be intense, he’d been told, even intimidating. Especially when he felt a lot at the same time, and at the moment he had never felt more. No wonder his soulmate was beginning to adopt the look of a kicked puppy. With conscious effort Raphael softened his face, stepping back to avoid crowding his soulmate. 

  “I believe you were in a rush to get somewhere.” He said slowly, “But perhaps we could meet up later, say this afternoon? We could have dinner. Get to know each other?” The kid’s stance softened slightly, though his eyes were still guarded. 

  “Okay,” he mumbled, unfolding his arms and adjusting the straps of his backpack. 

  “There’s a place on 44th street, called L'Altro. Meet me there at, say 5?” Raphael’s heart had started to slow, and instead the notorious Craving everyone went on about was starting to set in. He was already regretting postponing their conversation. The kid nodded slightly. 

  “I’m Simon. By the way.” He said, his hand reaching out. 

  “Raphael Santiago.” Raphael accepted the hand, skin bussing appreciatively at the contact. With a sudden movement he felt himself wrapped up in a tight hug that send a wave of unprecedented calm through him. It lasted all of five seconds though, and then the kid pulled back with a sheepish grin. 

  “See you at 5.” He waved awkwardly, and then he was gone, swept up in the morning traffic. 

(***)

“I have class in ten minutes, you’ve been warned,” a cheerful voice sounded down the line as it finally connected.

“Magnus!” Raphael breathed in relief, checking that his office door was still shut firmly. He had made his way to work some time after Simon had disappeared from sight, his heart working overtime the entire way there. Since then work had been an impossibility, and he had spent his time trying to get one of his trusted friends to pick up their phones and staring out the window as he tried to make sense of what had happened. The craving still had its firm grip on him, and more than once had he regretted not at least getting Simon’s number before letting him go. He had finally checked the mark that he now shared with his soulmate while he was still stood on the street. The sight of it had finally brought an honest smile to his face. His own symmetrical sun made of flames surrounded by a ring was now embraced by two spotted crescents, one within and one outside the circle. “I found him,” Raphael breathed into the phone, flipping his wrist over to stare at his soul mark again. 

  “What did you do?” Magnus’ voice dropped into something somehow both soothing and exasperated. 

  “You know how you always tell me I go all vampire-stary-eyed when I have a lot of feelings?” Raphael knew by the soft ‘ohh’ drifting down the line that Magnus had a good idea of what had happened. He twisted in his swirly chair to stare out the large window opening out into the grey neighborhood of an up-and-coming business district. “I think my soulmate might actually be kind of scared of me.” 

  “Probably,” Magnus unhelpfully agreed, “but when he gets a chance to see your endearing geeky side it’ll all be fine, I’m sure.” 

  “Ha. Ha. Ha.” Raphael said in a monotone, though a smile lurked at the corner of his lips.

  “Beside the Vampire glare how was bonding?” Magnus was one of three people to whom Raphael had confessed his true feelings. The two of them had struck up a frenemy-based relationship when Magnus had graciously allowed Raphael to stay in a guestroom a few years back. Raphael had been in college and his place – a small flat barely fit for one yet shared between three – had had to be vacated for a week for pest control. That one week had turned into three months when pest control had revealed irreparable termite damage, and Raphael had found himself homeless. 

  “It went strange.” Raphael said slowly, picking at something on his pants. “He didn’t even notice at first, and just continued walking. Then when he did come back he looked straight through me as if I didn’t even count as a possibility. I practically had to throw my wrist in his face. At least it threw me of enough to forget to be scared.” 

  “But it was mutual?” a touch of concern found its way into Magnus’ voice.

  “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t actually see his mark, but he came back and he said he’d bonded, so.” 

  “Good.” The concern had all but evaporated, replaced instead with a teasing lilt, “So how’s Craving treating you?” Raphael groaned loudly, throwing his head back to stare up at the ceiling. At the time everything had happened so fast, there had been no time to dissect emotions. In the hours after though, Raphael was sure he had been through the entire spectrum. Panic, fear, exhilaration, trepidation, pure joy, a brief moment of grounded calm and then straight into restless excitement. Underneath it all, though lay the yearning. Any and all unguarded moments had been devoted to longing for Simon – any part of him. His skin bussed in remembrance of the feeling of Simon’s body against his as they hugged. His heart replayed the rush that had run through him at the sight of that lopsided smile. His breath caught whenever his brain stopped on the recollection of his deep eyes. He didn’t even know this kid yet, and he was already so gone for him. 

  “I don’t know why everyone make it out to be such a big deal,” his faked nonchalance made Magnus laugh loudly on the other end, “I have no problem waiting until tonight to see him again.” 

  “To be sure!” Magnus agreed, “Anyway, much as I’d love to hear all about mystery guy, I actually have to go teach preschoolers how to spell out ‘Happy Mother’s Day’. Want me to stop by after work and help you pick out what to wear tonight?” Raphael groaned again, then hummed his accept. Magnus’ laughter was the last thing he heard before the line went dead. With a sigh he swiveled his chair back around to face the large screen of his computer. Another 7 hours before he got to see Simon again. Piece of cake, really. With another frustrated groan he let his forehead fall against the desk, and if he accidentally hit the keyboard, it was only by a tiny bit, and definitely did not leave a mark in the middle of his forehead to agonize over for what was left of the workday. 

(***)

Raphael had had the decency to be at the restaurant a good 15 minutes before the time he’d agreed on with Simon. Part of it, of course, had to do with the impatience setting his body on edge. The Craving was crawling up and down his spine, much more manageable now, though still insistent in its presence. Another part had to do with his insufferable friends. Magnus had, as agreed, shown up at Raphael’s place, dragging Will with him. They had taken the task of distracting Raphael until his departure quite seriously, and while the company, and the assuring smiles were welcome, the unhelpful fashion (and make-up) advice and the relentless teasing were not. Drumming his fingers against the polished wood of the table, Raphael kept half an eye on the door. - He had the curtesy to be early. His soulmate, clearly, did not. It was now ten minutes past five, and there were no signs of Simon. More than ever did Raphael curse himself for betting on upholding an air of mystery over insisting on a phone number. If he was being stood up by his own soulmate then he would have liked to have the option of at least leaving an angry voicemail. Folding his hand in to a fist to stop his nervous tick, Raphael forced himself to at least appear calm. No reason to reveal his agitated state to the entire place. 

The ornate doors opened, and Raphael’s heart jumped into his throat even before the new patron appeared in view, just like it had been doing for the past half hour. There he was. His soulmate. The boy looked ruffled and sheepish as he approached the hostess. His hair was still unruly, though now it seemed to be so in spite of the products forced into it. The backpack appeared to have stayed at home, though the Avengers had tagged along on the well-fitted t-shirt half-hidden under the nice, if slightly too large, blazer with the sleeves rolled up to reveal Simon’s forearms. A leather cuff was wrapped around his left wrist, and, though nice, Raphael couldn’t help but feel a stab of sadness at the thought of Simon covering up their mark. 

 The hostess was gesturing to where Raphael was sitting, and Simon caught Raphael’s eyes across the room. His smile faltered at the sight of Raphael, morphing into something filled with nerves, a touch of excitement and a handful of curiosity. Raphael hardly noticed the return of his nervous tapping against the table top. Simon’s eyes swept over him, and Raphael wondered what it was his soulmate saw. Raphael’d made an effort, slicking his hair back and grudgingly letting Magnus apply just a hint of eye liner to make his eyes ‘pop’. The white shirt was a nice fit, and paired with the black west with its silver chain, it passed as relaxed without being casual. It also allowed for rolled up sleeves to leave his wrists bare for all to see. He cleaned up nice, he knew, but he wasn’t sure if Simon agreed, and that made him inexplicably nervous. Instructing himself to smile, he got up to greet Simon as he joined him at the table. 

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as the two of them tried to telepathically agree on how to greet each other. It ended up with a sort of flaccid handshake that lasted all of point five seconds before they unanimously agreed to ignore the whole thing and sit down. 

  “So,” Simon grimaced, opening up the menu in front of him. “This is… a bit nicer than I thought.” Another grimace slid over his face as he scanned the list of not in-expensive dishes. 

  “I know the chef. I get discount.” Raphael supplied, trying to reign in on the vampire glare he instinctively aimed at his soulmate. Simon looked up to send him a half smile. 

“Right, so you know the food? What’s good then?” 

  “I am partial to the Penne Arrabiata.” Raphael rested his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingertips in front of him. Simon watched him for a beat, then nodded, returning his eyes to the menu. In an attempt to prevent himself from starring creepily, and thereby further scare the guy he was here to impress, Raphael let his eyes scan over the other patrons in the restaurant. 

  “Oh,” he said, spotting their waiter smiling at them and making her way over, “I’m assuming ordering a bottle of wine would not be, strictly speaking, legal?” Simon looked up again, this time with the distinct look of deer caught in headlights. 

  “Oh. Well, not if you share with me. Technically. I’m still only twenty for another couple of months or so.” Raphael nodded then looked up to smile at Lily, who was coming to a halt next to their table. There was a large smile on her face as she subtly eyed Simon. 

  “Good evening, boys. Can I get you started on some drinks?” Raphael gestured for Simon to start, and the boy looked startled between the two others. 

  “Oh, um, ice tea?” he made his request into a question, eyes still fluttering between Raphael and Lily. 

  “And water for me.” Raphael tried for a reassuring smile, while Lily tried to tone down her grin. 

  “Okay, great. I’ll just go grab that, and be right back.” She turned to walk away only to twirl on her heels and send Raphael an exaggerated thumbs up from behind Simon’s back. 

  “You can order alcohol if you want,” Simon said sheepishly, ignorant of Raphael choking on his own saliva. “I mean, if it’s legal for you, that is,” he added, “Are you over 21?” 

  “Yeah, I’m 25.” Raphael tried for a smile, though Simon still looked kind of out of sorts. “But I’m happy with water.”

  “Right.” Simon grimaced. He did that quite a lot, Raphael noticed. For a while they sat in silence, waiting for Lily to return. Simon had a hard time keeping still, though. His fingers restlessly played with the menu or raked through his hair, while the slight tremor of his left shoulder indicated the nervous taping of his foot.  

  “So.” Simon flicked his menu closed. Drawing in a breath and setting his shoulders. “How was your day?” he looked up, a mostly honest smile on his face. Raphael felt the corners of his mouth twitch up as he cocked his head to one side. 

“Long,” he said, “yours?” Simon licked his lips, nodding. 

  “Yeah, same. Long. And I’ve no clue what my morning class was even about.  That’s what I was running for, by the way. I was late though, but it was fine.” 

“So you’re in college?” Simon nodded, the smile still on his face. “What are you studying?” Raphael allowed his eyes to stay on the face of his soulmate, even as his darted all over the place. This whole thing was strange. They were supposed to be compatible, but still they had to work their way up to that intimate bond from the bottom. Sharing a mark was only the beginning. There was still hard work ahead to be done. 

  “Accounting. My mom insisted I do something with job security, you know? Seemed like a sensible idea, so. And I quite like math, so it seemed like a good enough choice. At least I don’t hate it as much as some of the others in my classes. – I’m doing a double major with business design, so it’s not boring numbers all the time.” Raphael raised an eyebrow at the sudden word stream. His soulmate was kind of adorable when he rambled, his eyes lighting up, and a hint of a smile lurking in the corners of his mouth. Raphael could see himself getting used to that. 

  “Your mother seems like a clever woman,” he commented.

  “Yeah, she is. Even if she doesn’t always think so.” Simon drummed his fingers against the table top, jumping slightly in his seat when Lily suddenly swung into place next to their table. There was a blinding smile on her face as she placed their glasses in front of them. 

  “Can I take your orders, gentlemen?” she asked with a wink at Raphael. Taking your soulmate to dinner at the workplace of one of your close friends had it’s downsides. – Like the fact that the entire waiting staff knew him by name, and had obviously been ordered to spy on him on behalf of the kitchen-bound head chef. With a shake of his head, Raphael waved for Simon to go first. 

  “Um, I’ll take the halibut,” he said hesitantly, and Raphael made sure to smile his reassurance as he ordered his usual pasta dish. 

  “So. What is it that you do?” Simon asked when Lily had pranced her way to the kitchen to file her rapport. 

  “I work for a marketing consultancy as an analyst.” Raphael took a sip of his water, relishing in its simple coldness. 

  “Fancy,” Simon nodded to himself.

  “Not really,” Raphael raised an eyebrow at him, “But it pays the bills, so.” 

  “Right.” Once again silence fell between them. Raphael didn’t really have a long history of dating, but he was quite sure this awkward silence wasn’t exactly a good sign. Shouldn’t it be easier to find something to say to the man who was supposed to be your soulmate? “So… what sort of music do you listen to?” Simon looked up from where he was twirling his tall glass between restless hands. There was something in his brown eyes, a spark of passion, which told Raphael that this question was a test. One that, for the sake of their future relationship, Raphael had to pass. He shrugged, hopping the action didn’t come across as indifference. 

“I listen to a lot of things,” he said, leaning back in his seat, feigning nonchalance he didn’t feel. “But at the moment I’m quite taken by this up and coming Latin inspired rock band, The green Roses.” Simon’s eyebrows shut up at that, and suddenly the smile from that morning, the one that lit up Raphael’s world, was back. “Yeah? Ever been to see them live?” Simon was leaning over the table, eyes intent on Raphael’s face now. The conversation somehow went from zero to fifty in less than a second. By the time Jem came out from his hideout in the kitchen with their plates, Raphael had learned quite a few things about his soulmate.  All of them music related, but since that seemed to take up a large part of Simon’s life, it only seemed appropriate. 

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” Jem cut over Simon’s tale of his band’s latest concert. Simon gabbed, head turning from the steaming plate placed haphazardly in front of him to the man in the sharp white coat and silver hair pulled into a ponytail. “You must be Simon.” Jem held out a hand for Simon to shake. “James Carstairs. Go by Jem. If you ever want all the dirt on Mr. Grumpy here,” he waved over his shoulder at Raphael, “Let me know. I’ll organize a party.” Raphael rolled his eyes even though Jem stealthily kept his back turned to him. “Enjoy your meal.” 

  “We will,” Raphael cut in, pointedly, while Simon smiled goofily. Jem turned to salute Raphael, smiling exaggeratedly, then pointing from it to Raphael with a wink. Then he took off for the refuge of the kitchen. Raphael rolled his eyes again for good measure, shook his head and raised an eyebrow at a still goofily smiling Simon. 

  “So you really are friends with the chef,” he said grabbing his fork and stabbing a piece of carrot. 

  “Unfortunately,” Raphael copied his soulmate, popping a penne into his mouth. “But he’s a good cook, so.” Simo was nodding, shewing fast and swallowing before verbally agreeing. 

  “So how long have you been friends?” 

  “Since college,” with that the conversation was back, and, as the meal wore on, the awkwardness seemed to have evaporated. It made a brief return as they stood on the street, trying to figure out how to say goodbye, Simon refused to let it take hold, though, confidently pulling Raphael into a strong hug. Raphael felt himself somewhat melting against his soulmate, his cheek coming to rest on Simon’s shoulder as his arms folded around his midsection. “See you soon?” The warm smile was back when Simon pulled back. His eyes were sparkling mischievously behind his glasses. Raphael could only nod, swallowing thickly. “Good,” Simon nodded resolutely, waved an adorable dorky wave, and turned to head for the nearest subway station. Raphael felt a smile creep upon his face as he watched Simon’s back disappear. Maybe this soulmate thing would turn out just fine. 

(…)

Raphael rolled his shoulders a couple of times, shaking his hands quickly as he did so. Then he checked that the sleeve of his white shirt was pulled down to cover his left wrist, and knocked on the light wooden door og the cheep suburban house. 

  “Raphael,” The way his name rolled of his mother’s tongue always reminded Raphael of home. - Not his home in America, but the home he barely remembered back in Mexico. The one he’d left abruptly when he was six years old, and his mother had stuffed him and his younger brothers into their car and taken of without explanation. “You’re late.” She reached up to fold a hand around his chin standing on tip-toes to press a kiss against his cheek. 

Guadalupe Santiago, a short and stout lady with greying hair pulled into a bun at the base of her neck, wore the marks left by a life of hardships like a patch of honor. Crows feet framed dark eyes that didn’t lose their sparkle because of the worry lines cutting their way across her forehead. She held herself with pride, always presenting a put-together front wherever she went. 

  “I’m sorry, Mama,” Raphael pressed a kiss against his mother’s cheek in return. “Traffic was acting up again.” 

  “Of course Mijo,” there was a teasing edge to her voice as guadelupe took a step bak, grabbing her son’s hands. “Now let me see that sun of yours.” Her four boys held a very special place in guadalupe’s heart. Raphael knew this; knew the fights she had fought for each and every one of them. She was also the kind of mother who believed that a life in solitude was a punishment to her children, which was why she had taken up checking the boys’ soulmarks religiously every time she saw them. Just to check if they had found true happiness since the last time she saw them. 

  “Mama,” Raphael felt his heart jolt into his throat as he gently wrapped his fingers around those of his mothers to halt their movements. “There’s something I need to tell you, first.” Guadalupe’s eyes snapped to his face, scanning it. The exitment was quickly tamed at whatever she found in his eyes. “I’m gay, Mama. It isn’t a girl. It’s a boy.” Guadalupe didn’t say anything, though her dark brown eyes clouded over as they returned to the wrist still covered by the pristine white sunday shirt. She carefully undid the buttons, even as Raphael’s whole arm shook in her grib. His heart was beating hard and strong somewhere in the area of his uvula as his mother let her fingers skim across the mark he now shared with Simon. 

  After a moment her eyes returned to his face, and there was next to nothing readable in them. “We are late for church, Mijo.” she said, voice firm as always. “Get your brothers. I’ll wait in the car.” 

Almost every Sunday Raphael would get in the car he owned only for one purpose.  - To drive it to the middle-class suburban area where his mother and two of his brothers lived, and pick them up to take them to the nearby church. It was a familiar routine. Calming in its familiarity. He used to look forward to the time spent with his family, the brief moment of fresh air, in-between hard working days. Guadalupe didn’t say anything when Raphael and his brothers joined her in the car. She didn't say anything on the drive and she stayed quiet all through Service, except from when she, in a whisper, turned to Raphael during prayer to ask for _his_ name. She stayed behind, after Service to talk to the priest. 

It wasn't until later that day, when lunch had been shared and the two younger boys sent of to play or do their homework, that Raphael got to know what had been happening in his mother’s head. He’d spent most of that day shaky and on edge. His mother’s silence had weighed on him like a ton of bricks, making his heart twist and his stomach turn at any given reminder of the secret revealed.     

  “Let me see the Sun and Moons again, Mijo,” Guadalupe and Raphael had relocated from the kitchen to the livingroom. She was sitting in her armchair, and he was sitting on the sofa next to her. Hesitantly, Raphael held out his wrist, and once again she let her fingers skim over the mark, tracing the double crescents now framing his flaming sun. “Like night and day, hm, Mijo,” she whispered, and a soft smile was playing at the corners of her lips. Raphael felt a smile of his own bloom at the sight of it. 

  “I suppose,” he said. He had only known Simon for two days, but he could already see how different and yet how similar they were. 

  “And his name is Simon, yes?” Raphael smiled slightly, as he nodded sharp and clear. A bout of confidence made him pull out his phone and thumb his way to the picture he’d taken the day before at the park. Simon was sitting on the grass, the golden trees in the background. He was smiling that wide smile that made his eyes squint as he jokingly waved at the camera. He’d been in the process of taking a picture of Raphael, who’d retaliated by snapping one of his own. “This is him,” Raphael said as he handed over the phone to his mother. 

  “Ah, hermoso, no?” Guadalupe inspected the picture, sending her son little teasing glances. “Very handsom.” Scratching at the back of his neck, Raphael nodded his agreement. 

  “This is not easy, Raphael.” As she passed back the phone Guadalupe leveled him with an even look. “It is not what we are taught is right. But then, the world is changing, no? And I am thinking that nothing as beautiful as my son’s mark joined with that of someone else’s can bad. A filled mark is pure. No matter who filled it.” Raphael nodded at his mother’s words, only halfway meeting her eyes. Slowly and deliberately she lent across the armchair to fold a wrinkled hand over his, her clever eyes meeting his full-on. “Te amo, mijo.”   

  “Te amo, mama.” it was whispered softly and filled with held-back emotions. Because he knew this was all that would be said on the matter. From here on out, Simon would be accepted in this family as the soulmate of Raphael’s that he was.      

(...)

The park was half empty for a change when Simon crossed the street from the subway station to make his way towards the bench facing the little pond hidden among tall trees that sheltered the place from the city. Maybe the lack of people had to do with the slight drizzle in the air which made the world grey and hazy around the edges. Simon himself shuddered, pulling the collar of his coat up higher. Autumn was slowly turning into winter in New York, the temperature dropping proportionally with the increase of trees and Santas displayed in shops all over the city. A mere week ago he would be hiding away in the library, waiting for his afternoon class. But things had changed. How things had changed. The last week had been nothing short of a tornado of emotions for Simon. 

 Meeting his soulmate was something Simon had been dreaming about since he was a little boy. Back then his vision of finding the person with whom he would share his life, the one who would complete him, had been utterly naive in its optimism. Life had since then taught him just how cruel the world could be. How love was not enough; how evil could still strike. Even so, he had never stopped dreaming of the girl that would one day traipse into his life and change everything for the better. Realising that his soulmate was not curvy with long hair or whatever else corresponded with the stereotype he had created for her had been a numbing shock. One that had quickly been washed away as Raphael had rolled up his sleeve. As Simon had looked down at his mark now merged with that of Raphael’s on his soulmate’s wrist, he’d felt the rush of clear, distilled happiness erupt within him just like he had always envisioned. Raphael was his, and he couldn’t wait starting this new part of his life with all the wonders it would bring. 

Then he’d looked up into the dark, intense eyes of his soulmate already resting on his face. It had been entirely impossible to decipher the feelings in them, and that, more than anything, had drowned out the happiness. Simon had, ashamedly, considered not turning up at the restaurant that evening. Luckily, his roommate had had no time for his indecisiveness, and had pushed him out the door. The soft smile that had met him, as he joined Raphael at the table was now safely stored in his mind’s collection of proof that this was all worth it. Proof that was needed, because it had only been a week, and Simon was already filled with conflicting views on his future with the soulmate he had spent years waiting for. 

  “Here,” the coffee cup suddenly appearing in front of him pulled Simon from his internal brainstorm. He’d made it to the bench where he had started meeting Raphael for lunch every weekday without really noticing, just like he hadn’t noticed his soulmate joining him there. He turned to meet the warm eyes of his soulmate, stuttering out a thanks. For the few hours a day he got to spend with Raphael, the thoughts would normally quiet, and he’d get to revel in the calmness of being close to his soulmate. The doubts didn’t feel as real when Raphael’s soft voice was there to drown them out. It was the many hours they spent apart that presented the problems. That was when Simon’s brain would kick into overdrive, analyzing every touch and every word spoken. 

Raphael got settled on the bench next to Simon, deftly unwrapping the sandwich he must have bought on the way there along with their coffees. When he’d gotten the wrapper of, he placed his one hand on top of his knee, palm up in a silent offer. The move was executed so calmly, it seemed entirely confident and thoughtless. Simon was only just starting to realize how much energy Raphael put into always appearing in complete control. With a small smile, Simon let their fingers intertwine. It was rare for Raphael to initiate contact like this. For a moment they sat in silence, Raphael calmly taking bites out of his sandwich while Simon sipped his coffee. 

  “What’s on your mind?” Raphael’s voice made Simon jump slightly, and he caught the soft chuckle coming from his soulmate. Simon twisted in his seat to send Raphael a playful glare that was met with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “I can practically smell your brain frying, Bebé.” Simon allowed his glare to intensify, though he was silently pleased at the term of endearment. 

 “Did you…” Simon hesitated, turning to stare out at the pond before them. “Did you know I was going to be a he before you met me?” Raphael didn’t answer immediately, and Simon took the second’s worth of hesitation as an incentive to jump right into one of his spiels. “Because I didn’t. Not that I didn’t know it was, you know, like an option or whatever. I know homosexual bonds are a thing that exist and all that, I just. Didn’t think I swung that way you know? Not that I’m disappointed or anything. I like you, I mean. It’s just, I’m kind of wondering if the whole not knowing might be some kind of signal, you know? Like, maybe we have one of those platonic bonds or what they call them, or maybe it’s, like, a glitch?” He turned to look at Raphael, who just raised an eyebrow at him. Simon found himself longing for the day he’d be able to decipher the emotions of his soulmate, because Raphael was practically unreadable. 

  “What makes you think that? Specifically, I mean?” Raphael carefully extracted his hand from Simon’s, using it to pick up his forgotten coffee. Simon shrugged, turning to look at the raindrops making rings spread infinitely over the surface of the pond. 

  “I guess because I heard you normally know? Like, my friends knew. And I kind of get the vibe that maybe you’re not that into more than what we’re already doing?” Simon only dared a quick glance at his soulmate’s face as he spoke, though it was as emotionless as ever. 

  “Are you? Interested in more?” his voice was low and flat, giving away as little as his eyes, though somehow that made Simon feel like he was walking right on the edge of something big.  

  “Yeah? I think? But I guess that could just be Craving, right?” he forced himself to meet Raphael’s eyes, though his soulmate just shook his head slowly, pursing his lips. 

  “Craving doesn’t work like that.” He said slowly. 

  “How do you know?” Simon frowned down at his hands twisted together in his lap. 

  “I have a Master’s Degree in Soulmate Studies. My thesis was on the myth of Craving in Marketing.” 

  “What?!” Simon’s head snapped round to stare at Raphael, “How did I not know this?” 

  “I didn’t want it to influence our bonding process.” Raphael was sitting almost rigidly next to Simon, legs crossed, back straight and hands folded neatly on top of his knee. His head was turned to watch Simon as he spoke. 

  “Well, how does Craving work, then?” unlike Raphael, Simon could feel himself fidget about. His knee was bouncing up and down, unconsciously, and his fingers were tangling and untangling in his lap. 

  “Craving’s a hormone. It’s activated when the bond is first formed, and stimulate the centre of emotion to enhance what the individual is already feeling. It essentially just speeds up an already quite hefty process to strengthen the relation with the partner. It can’t create emotions that are not already there. And while we’re at it, platonic bonds are a construct. There’s no evidence to prove they exist. There is a difference in how strong bonds are, and how they are shaped. But the idea of bonds being platonic in nature or being bonds of ‘friendship’ is tied with people seeking an excuse for relationships they deem inappropriate. Like homosexual bonds. So no, our bond is not platonic. And the attraction you feel is quite real. Also, I have a friend whose bond is a glitch. He bonded, but his partner did not. And, believe me, it is not a good situation for anyone to be in. No matter how hard they try to convince themselves otherwise.” 

  “Oh,” Simon felt his body still as the implications of Raphael’s words swirled about in his head. He’d made a huge misstep, and now his soulmate thought he didn’t believe in their bond. 

  “As for me and my ‘vibes’ I suppose you need to know that I’m asexual.” Raphael cut over the fumbled apology Simon was about to stutter his way through. “Which means that the basic attraction as most people know it isn’t there for Craving to enhance. I’m not sending those vibes because I don’t feel them like you do. That doesn’t mean that I’m unaffected by our bond. Craving, to me, is about longing. It’s a strong desire to be near you, to share your space with you. The physical desires take a backseat to that. They don’t come natural to me like they do to you. They never will. That’s not to say that our relationship can never be physical. It just means that nine out of ten times you will be the instigator, not me.” Simon carefully reached over to fold one hand over Raphael’s, folded over his knee. Their eyes met, and Simon tried for a reassuring smile. “I know this means our lives aren’t going to be as easy,” Raphael’s voice had dropped to a whisper. “But I really hope we can make it work. That you’ll be willing to fight to make it work.” This was the most vulnerable Simon had seen Raphael. His deep-brown eyes were heavy on Simon’s face, much like the first time they’d met, though this time the feelings in them were much more obvious. Raphael was nervous yet hopeful as he waited for Simon’s reaction. 

  “You’re my soulmate,” Simon twisted in his seat to face Raphael more straight on. The hand not resting on top of Raphael’s came up to fold around Raphael’s neck. “Of course we’ll make it work.” He could feel tension seep from Raphael as his thumb caressed the skin at the nape of his neck. Slowly, gazes held, Simon leaned in, brushing his lips carefully over Raphael’s. The touch sent little shivers of warmth spreading over his skin. The soft sigh leaving Raphael danced over Simon’s skin as Raphael tilted his head slightly to catch Simon’s lips more firmly.  Their eyes slipped closed as they kissed, softly. 

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re specialized in soulmates!” Simon accused as the soft kiss broke, “I have so many questions!” he twisted in his seat to face the pond, intertwining his fingers with Raphael’s and leaning his shoulder against his soulmate’s. “Like, can you bond with someone from your own family? Or is that a myth, too?” 

(***)

  “Clary wants to meet you,” Simon inelegantly flopped onto the couch next to where Raphael was quietly trying to read his book. It had been a little less than a fortnight since he’d found his energetic puppy of a soulmate, and he was slowly getting used to sharing his home and his personal space with the other man. They spent most of their evenings in Raphael’s flat since it was larger, and he didn’t share with anyone else. 

  “Yeah?” Raphael raised an eyebrow over the edge of his book at his soulmate spread over the couch, limbs hanging over the edges in a tangle. “You do know that that sort of thing runs on a quid pro quo principle, right?” Simon craned his neck back to send Raphael an up-side-down look. “I meet your friend, you’re obligated to meet mine, and I’m just not sure you’re ready for that just yet.” A smirk slit over Simon’s face as he twirled over to tumble of the couch only to bounce up onto his feet.

  “Oh, ye of little faith,” he climbed back onto the couch, standing on all fours right in front of Raphael. “Your friends are going to love me. I’m lovable.” He smiled that smile, leaning in to steal a kiss. “You, on the other hand,” he smirked, stealing another brief kiss, “might be in trouble mister.” Raphael rolled his eyes, reaching up to pull Simon in by the collar of his t-shirt. 

  “I’ll have you know, I can be perfectly charming if I so chose,” Raphael said in a low, seductive whisper that had Simon’s pupils dilate. Kissing Simon was different than Raphael had expected. It was comfortable, in a way; reassuring. It didn’t make him short-of-breath or shaky as it did Simon. But it did sent pleasant heatwaves through him, calming him down. It was another way of showing Simon his affection. 

  “So, I’ll tell her this Friday? Dinner at our place?” there was a slight hitch to Simon’s breath as he pulled back to give Raphael one of his dopey looks, all smiles and squinty eyes. He flopped around for a moment, like a goldfish stranded on land, before settling himself between Raphael’s legs, leaning back against Raphael’s chest. Raphael huffed in mock annoyance, adjusting the grib of his book. 

  “Sure, why not, Bebé.” he said, scanning the page in the book to find his place. It was distracting though, having your soulmate leaning against you, humming while typing out a message on his phone. Rather then finding his place, Raphael’s eyes drifted to where Simon’s hand rested against Raphael’s bent knee, thumb flying over the keys of his phone. “Why do you always wear this?” Raphael wriggled a hand free to skim his fingers over the leather cuff on Simon’s left wrist. The cuff that almost always covered up their mark. 

  “Oh,” Simon said after a beat. “Well, my dad’s mark was a double crescent as well, only they faced each other, and they had little stars instead of my bubbles. After he died my mum couldn’t see my mark without bursting into tears, so I started covering it up.” Simon’s voice was calm as he spoke; matter-of-fact-like. “I’m not sure why I still do it when I’Ve left home, though. I guess it’s just…” 

  “Force of habit?” Raphael mumbled against Simon’s hair, pressing a kiss into it. Simon nodded, softly. 

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “And I guess it kind of remind me of him a little, too.”       

  (*)

Friday came sooner than Raphael was strictly speaking ready for. For near on three weeks he’d gotten to have Simon to himself. They’d spent the time wisely, getting to know how to function in their new couple. Raphael wasn’t ready for someone else to be invited into that. But the string of texts he had received throughout the day spoke of Simon’s excitement. So Raphael put on one of his more casual suits, picked up the bouquet he had gotten for his soulmate’s roommate and long-time best friend, and made his way across town to the cheap apartment blocks close to NYU.   

  “Oh,” a petit redhead swung the door open with some element of force seconds after Raphael had knocked. She hummed to herself as her eyes travel up and down his body, clearly evaluating him. “Well aren’t you a sight,” she concluded, leaning against the door rather than invite him in. “So you’re Simon’s mysterious soulmate.” 

  “I am. Raphael,” he held his hand out, and Clary shook it cordially, then accepted the bouquet of dusty-blue Hortensia.  

  “Clary,” Raphael looked over the head of the girl in front of him to spot his soulmate leaning casually against the frame of a doorway, a raised eyebrow and a smirk aimed at his roommate. “Let my soulmate in the door please.” Clary rolled her eyes in response, but stepped aside to allow Raphael entrance. 

  “Hey, you,” Simon grabbed the lapels of Raphael’s jacket when he got within reach, pulling him in for a kiss just the wrong side of acceptable for company. Clary cleared her throat, shaking her head at them, arms folded over her chest. 

  “Can we move this into the actual flat, please?” she said. Simon narrowed his eyes at her, but moved to pull Raphael with him by the hand. 

  “I’ll show you around.” He told Raphael as they entered a small-ish living room. Large windows faced into a red brick wall, and in front of them a large, brownish couch faced a flat screen mounted to the dusted pink wall. The hardwood floor peaked out between a multitude of small multi-coloured rugs dividing up the already small space. A little table fit for two was pushed against the wall between two doors, and was already set up for three, mismatched chairs gathered around it. The walls were covered in large paintings, abstract patterns getting tangled up in each other, making the space somewhat suffocating to Raphael. “Not that there’s that much to show.” Simon waved around the cluttered space, a dopey grin on his face. “That’s the kitchen.” He pointed to a door pushed ajar next to where they stood by the entrance. A heady smell sent the promise of dinner into the living room. “Bathroom” he pointed to the door to the other side of where they stood. “Clary’s room.” He dragged Raphael across the room, waving vaguely at the door to the right of the little table. “And my room,” he threw open the door left of the table and pulled Raphael with him through it.  

  Simon’s room was much calmer than the living room had been. It was small, and most of it was taken up by the large bed, neatly made with dark-blue covers and pillows to match the heavy curtains framing the small window above the desk next to the bed. The desk  was covered in papers and books. On top of the chest-of-drawers pushed into the little space between the door and the wall, a pin-board balanced against the wall. It was covered in postcards and pictures. Little memorabilia figures were neatly displayed all over the room. The walls were painted a much calmer light blue-grey, and framed posters were hung in a neat line all the way around. Compared to Raphael’s minimalist three-colour home, it was cluttered and claustrophobic. But it fit to Simon, and Raphael had a feeling he could get used to it, given time. 

 Simon had made his way over to sit on the bed while Raphael took in the pin-board, which had caught his curiosity.

  “My old high school friend. Max. He ran away from home a few years ago, but he still keeps in touch. Just to let med now he’s okay.” Simon said from the bed, a hint of suppressed sadness in his voice. When Raphael turned to face him, the wide smile that lit up his eyes slid into place as he stretched his arms out for Raphael. Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Raphael stepped over to the edge of the bed, letting his hands land on Simon’s shoulders as he looked down into his eyes. “I’m sorry about your friend,” Raphael whispered, squeezing Simon’s shoulders. Simon shrugged and shook his head slightly.

“It’s okay, i’ve gotten used to it. At least he’s happy, now. Anyway, what do you think?” Simon wrapped his arms around Raphael’s midsection, holding onto him securely.

  “I like your room,” Raphael shrugged playing with the curls at the nape of Simon’s neck. 

  “Yeah?” Simon’s eyes were positively shining up at him, and Raphael found himself nodding seriously. “I missed you yesterday.” Simon leaned forward to rest his chin against Raphael’s abdomen. “Is that silly?” Raphael smiled, letting his fingers tangle in Simon’s soft hair. Raphael had had a late meeting the day before, and since Simon had early morning classes on Fridays, they hadn’t seen each other since Wednesday night. 

  “Nah, I missed you, too, Bebé.” Raphael hummed softly. 

  “Dinner’s ready, guys,” Clary’s voice cut into their moment. Simon sighed, pressing his forehead into Raphael’s abdomen briefly before getting to his feet. 

  “Clary made Paella,” Simon wriggled his eyebrows, grabbing Raphael’s hand again, moving around him to drag him out to the small table.  

The rice was slightly overcooked, mushing together in a sticky mesh. The dish itself was a little too heavy on the paprika overpowering the fresh taste of underrepresented shellfish and chicken with its earthy smoky taste. The bottle of wine Simon opened with a somewhat guilty smile, was a touch too sharp, stinging the tongue. Raphael felt like a grumpy grandpa, sipping the wine consciously avoiding making a face at the tartness of it, and smiling through a forced out compliment of the food. The warm smile on Simon’s face was worth it though.

  Clary’s conversation skill consisted mainly of her taking the word for herself. Simon, clearly used to it, unashamedly cut over her, offering his own opinion to her political rants and adding to her stories of their teenage days. Raphael found himself quietly observing their ping ponging across the tiny table. He already knew what he would say when Simon asked his opinion at the end of the evening, all excitement and eagerness. He would be all polite, pointing out Clary’s talent (she was in art school) and political engagement as good qualities. However, he knew, in some dark part of his brain, that he and Clary would never really become friends. The eyes narrowed in his direction told him Clary and he were on the same page in that regard. 

  “So, Raphael.“ Clary plunked into the orange lounge chair next to the sofa Raphael had been pushed into. Simon had disappeared into the kitchen to unearth another bottle of cheap wine and the store-bought dessert tucked into the freezer. The remainder of dinner had been left on the table despite Raphael’s offer to help with tidying up. “Simon tells me you’re an expert on Soulmates. Is it usual for people to not know the gender of their mates before bonding with them?” a hint of a challenge was hidden in her voice as her green eyes rested on his face. 

  “It’s not unheard of.” He narrowed his eyes at her, twirling his wineglass between his fingers. 

  “But it’s not common?” she tossed her long hair over her shoulder. Raphael raised an eyebrow, his shoulder rising as he tried to convey his acceptance of the statement. “So you and Simon are kind of an anomaly, then?” 

  “Most bonded pairs are, if you want to be pedantic about it,” Raphael raised both eyebrows now. 

  “Hey, Clary, I thought I told you to get the ones with chocolate? Raph can’t have this,” Simon appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, bottle in one hand and box of frozen strawberry mousse in the other. 

  “Oh, sorry,” Clary smiled sweetly at her roommate. “Must have slipped my mind.” 

  “We have some chocolate crackers, if you want,” Simon shrugged of Clary’s apology to smile at Raphael instead. 

  “That’s fine,” Raphael smiled back. Clary chose not to pick their conversation back up, instead spending the time staring at Raphael calculatingly. A moment later, Simon came bounding back into the room. He dumped his haul onto the table before dropping down onto the couch next to Raphael, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek and letting his hand casually rest on Raphael’s knee. 

  “So what are we talking about?” he asked, all excited puppy. Raphael turned to send clary a challenging raised eyebrow while leaning back and sneaking an arm around Simon’s shoulder. 

  “Soulmates,” Clary responded with a wide smile, leaning over to grab a small cup of strawberry mousse. Simon’s hand tightened around Raphael’s knee. If it hadn’t been for that added pressure, Raphael would never have guessed that it took effort for Simon to elegantly side-track the conversation towards some TV-show he and Clary were excited about. The conversation went back to the familiar pattern of Clary talking and Simon interrupting. After some time, Clary got up to do the dishes with a wink at Simon. As soon as she had left the room, making sure the door to the kitchen closed heavily after her, Simon twisted in his seat, one arm sneaking over Raphael’s abdomen to fold securely around him. His chin came to a rest on the edge of Raphael’s shoulder, making eye contact difficult despite their best efforts. 

  “Stay the night?” Simon asked in a somewhat smaller voice than usual, a hint of uncertainty hidden in it. Rather than answer, Raphael continued to watch him for a moment. “Not to, you know, do anything, just to, well, be here. In the morning. When we wake up.”

Moments later Raphael found himself laying on his back in Simon’s bed, clad in borrowed sleep wear, covers securely tugged around himself. He was staring hard at the ceiling above him, decorated with glow-in-the-dark-stars, trying not to think too much about what all of this meant. Since their talk at the pond a couple of weeks ago, Raphael had waited for Simon’s doubts and insecurities over their bond to pop up again. It seemed, however, as if Simon had simply decided not to listen to any of that anymore, devoting all his time to their relationship instead. Something Raphael was not about to complain over. And if he still feared the drop of the other shoe over his sexuality, well then he didn’t let that fear paralyse him. 

Simon sort of slinked back into the room a few minutes after he’d left to get changed and ready for bed. He smiled, shy, nervous and happy, as he climbed into the bed next to Raphael, bending down to peck Raphael’s lips with his own before turning to turn of the bed side lamp. He lay down on his back, carefully not crowding Raphael’s space. With a soft good night, Raphael let his eyes slide shut, only to blink them open a few minutes later. Simon was fidgeting, clearly trying to get comfortable in an unusual position. Raphael watched as he turned halfway towards him, one arm flailing up in to the air before he tried fitting it under his head. A sheepish smile slid over his face when he saw Raphael watching him. Raphael raised an eyebrow at him. With a smooth move, Raphael grabbed the arm Simon had been flailing about, using it to tuck the other man fully onto his side, halfway collapsed against Raphael, and draping the arm over his midsection. Simon’s eyes were intent on his face through the whole thing. 

  “I didn’t want to be presumptuous.” He whispered carefully into the dark. Raphael rolled his eyes, smiled, and lent in to press a kiss against Simon’s forehead. 

  “Go to sleep, Bebé,” he said, simply, closing his own eyes. He vaguely caught Simon’s sighed out ‘okay’, feeling him fully relax against him. With a sigh of his own, Raphael forced his mind to go blank, searching for that place of calm called sleep.

(**)

  “It’s half passed six. Why aren’t you in bed?” Raphael rubbed at his eyes to combat the blurry edges of the world as he made his way towards the coffee machine sending a beacon call in the form of a red blinking light across the open plan Livingroom/kitchen. Simon grimaced at him from his seat at the large glass table.

  “I was rudely pulled from sleep by an onslaught of inspiration for one of my papers, so. – And then I saw my Corporate Finance book, and remembered I had some reading to do.” He leafed through a few papers of a book Raphael knew to be for his Marketing Course, before slamming it shut. He made his way over to Raphael, who’d filled his red mug. Simon practically melted against his side, making himself smaller to fit his head on his shoulder. “Kind of regretting it now, though,” he mumbled, letting one arm slide around Raphael’s midsection. 

  “Hmm, go back to sleep, then.” Raphael hummed, twisting his neck to press a kiss into his soulmate’s curls. “just use the spare key to lock up when you leave for class.” Since the night he met clary a week ago, Raphael and Simon hadn’t spent a night apart. Raphael was starting to get used to sharing his bed with what could best be termed a cuddly koala bear. 

  “Maybe later,” a yawn cut Simon’s sentence in half, “right now I just want to stay here for a little while.” 

  “You have five minutes before I have to get ready for work.” Raphael sipped his coffee calmly, pulling Simon tighter against himself. 

  “Are we staying here tonight? Only, I have that early tutorial tomorrow morning. But on the other hand I have a paper to finish and all my stuffs here. I can’t be bothered lugging it across town.” They still stayed at Raphael’s most of the time despite the long travel time to NYU and the little coffee shop Simon worked at part time. 

  “I have a meeting that might run long, but you can just use the spare key to let yourself in and study from here if you want.” Simon hummed his agreement, and the kitchen fell into an uncomplicated sort of silence. 

By the time Raphael was ready to leave half an hour later, Simon had hidden himself underneath both their duvets. Raphael found himself smiling at the lump on the bed as he made sure the alarm was set on loud. With a kiss to curls carefully unearthed, Raphael left for a day of long meetings. 

(***) 

“So, Princes leia and Han Solo are going to get it on, right?” Raphael turned in Simon’s arms to look up at him with a self-satisfied smile. Simon found himself beaming at his soulmate as he slipped into a minor rant about the epic love-triangle spanning three movies. Raphael simply shook his head, turning back to the laptop balanced on his knees as Simon continued talking at him. 

It had been a full month since that fateful day on a random street in New York, and the two of them were celebrating with a quiet night in. Raphael had somehow conned a recipe out of his chef friend which he had then cooked to great success. While he’d cooked in the sleek, if smallish kitchen area, Simon had set the large glass-topped table separating the living and the kitchen sections of the long room. He had carefully selected the china Raphael had apparently inherited from his grandmother. The crème-white plates with their delicate blue flowers and golden edges hardly fit with the minimalistic aesthetic of Raphael’s. However, Simon knew they meant the world to his soulmate, and so he set the heirlooms, carefully, along with the equally miss matching ornate crystal wineglasses which was a graduation present from his mother. Simon had also unearthed a few thick off-white block candles which he’d set at the centre of the table, surrounding them with twigs of Christmas trees and little shapes of thin silver thread. ‘Tis the season and all that, he’d thought to himself, humming a Christmassy tune while lighting the candles. Raphael had sent him a raised eyebrow for his efforts. 

After a dinner filled with hearty chatter, sparkly eyes and honest smiles, they had settled on the surprisingly large and comfortable couch, Raphael wrapped securely in Simon’s arms, his laptop balanced on his legs. Raphael had finally relented, and agreed to watch Star Wars for the first time ever. Simon had expected that Raphael would watch without complaint, because that was the sort of man his soulmate was. He hadn’t expected the honest engagement, though, and he couldn’t help the wave of excitement and fondness that flowed through him. He blamed his rambling on that. 

For a full month, Simon had known his soulmate, and, despite his initial doubts, he now found himself well on the way to falling in love. Under the hard, stone-like surface he had found a man with a heart the size of a small car. Slowly but steadily Simon was starting to be able to interpret his soulmate. By now, for example, he knew that Raphael was not one to easily smile. His eyes, however, gave him away. When he was amused by something, little crow’s feet appeared at the corners, and when he felt fondness towards something they would squint slightly. They did both quite often around Simon. At first the whole a-sexual thing had worried Simon. – Not that he was an overtly sexual creature himself. It was more that he wasn’t sure how to tread the borders between what Raphael was comfortable with and what Simon felt he needed. So far, though, it hadn’t been a problem. Not really. They were learning to communicate where the borders where, and how to compromise so that both of them could rest comfortably in the relationship. It made Simon feel very adult like. 

Simon’s rant drifted off, and they watched awhile in silence. When they were interrupted again, it was by a knock on the door. Raphael turned his head towards the door to the long hallway, though he made no move to act. When the second round of knocking started up not two seconds later, he sighed in frustration, pausing the movie and getting to his feet. Simon would be lying if he claimed to not be straining his ears as his soulmate opened the door. 

  “Magnus Bane and crew. Why am I not surprised?” Raphael’s voice had taken on a condescending edge Simon hadn’t heard before. 

  “Because we’re fabulous?” a cheerful voice suggested. 

  “What are you doing here?” Raphael already sounded out of patience. 

  “You, my friend have been bonded for a full 30 days.” A third voice chimed in. 

  “I have,” Raphael responded. “Which is why most people would have the curtesy to stay well clear.” 

  “Ah, but we are not most people,” the cheerful voice said at the same time as yet another voice butted in with: “But they would if they had not met their close friend’s soulmate yet.” 

  “Not to worry though, my dearest grumpy vampire friend, we’ve brought the party with us.” The cheerful voice added and Simon could practically hear Raphael’s groan.  He’d gotten to his feet, and found himself standing in the middle of the living room, awaiting the party gathered at the front door. Whenever Raphael spoke of his friends it was with a fond exasperation. He clearly loved them all despite his many complaints. Simon knew his time to shine had come, and he’d get little time to prepare. 

  “You’re not going away are you?” Raphael’s voice asked. 

  “Pay these idiots no mind, dear friend. We’re all simply happy for you.” A new voice cut over the protest of the others.

  “The one to pay no mind to is my old-man soulmate. We are happy for you though.” 

  “Enough talking,” the cheerful voice cut over what could quite possibly have been a moment.  “Let’s get this party started.” There was the sound of a scuffle, and then four people were pushing through the door, shoving at each other to be the first to enter the room. They were followed by Raphael who was shaking his head at their antics. 

  “Ah, there he is.” The four stopped as one, forming a neat line in front of where Simon had frozen to the spot. The cheerful voice turned out to belong to the tall Asian Simon knew to be Magnus Bane the enigmatic guy Raphael had lived with for a brief period once. That, Raphael would complain with fondness, apparently warranted friendship for lifetime in Magnus’ book, no matter what the other party involved might think on the matter. 

  “He really is quite cute.” Will, a tall man with tousled dark hair and startlingly blue eyes was Raphael’s eldest friend. They had bonded, once upon a time, over having foreign accents. – Will was from Wales, and had come to America on an exchange programme to the same high school Raphael had gone to. As he spoke now, he swung his arm around the man next to him. This was the one close friend of Raphael’s that Simon’d already met. Though shorter than his friend, James stood out in any crowd with his silver hair and piercing grey eyes. He had forgone his chef’s coat for a form fitted pea coat and a deep red scarf wounded around his neck several times. His hands were buried in his pockets as he grinned at Simon almost wickedly. 

  “Is cute the right word?” kind eyes sparkled towards Simon from the friendly face of Ragnor, Raphael’s dearest friend of the bunch. He was the oldest of the group, and looked the part with his greying hair and English-professor dress sense. 

  “He’s adorable, Raphie!” Magnus grabbed Raphael’s arms, as he had tried making his way around the group gathered in front of Simon. Raphael rolled his eyes, shrugging of the arm. 

  “Simon, these invaders believe themselves my friends. Squatters, this is Simon,” Raphael waved between them, then walked over to dump down onto the couch, making sure to brush his hand along Simon’s on his way. Simon, catching the sly wink of Raphael’s, waved shyly at the group. 

  “You must be Magnus Bane and the Crew. Pleasure to meet you.” His words were met with the happy cheer form one, and groans from the many. Raphael’s almost silent chuckle had Simon smirk as he stepped forward to greet the unexpected guest with renewed confidence. 

(*)

Simon and his friends were actually getting along great. Raphael found himself smiling, as he sank back against the soft cushions of his large couch. He hadn’t really doubted that his soulmate would like his friends. But part of him had still feared that it would be in the same sort of way that Raphael himself tolerated the red-haired roommate of Simon’s. He should never have doubted though, he thought to himself, as he watched Simon, seated at the edge of the seat next to Raphael, gesticulating excitedly with the drink Magnus had made for him. 

Raphael had chosen to invest in one of those large family couches when shopping for his new flat. It fit nicely in front of the shelving units covering one wall, not cluttering the place, and served as a room divider. It also neatly fit his entire friend group, which he was secretly very pleased with. This evening, he and Simon had taken up one corner, with Raphael hidden slightly from view. Next to them, Jem sat lent back, legs stretched out over the floor, as he sipped his beer and joined in the chatter from time to time. 

Will and Ragnor had taken up the other corner. Ragnor was sitting sideways in his seat, one socked foot propped up on the cushion. Will was sitting between his legs, back resting against Ragnor’s knee, and long legs thrown over that of his partner. If strangers were to hazard a guess as to who was Will’s soulmate, nine out of ten would point to Jem. The two of them had been friends for ages, and had that typical close bro-mance type of relationship going on. It was, however, Ragnor, who had completed Will’s mark, back in college. Though not overtly touchy-feely, the two of them clearly had a close-knit relationship. 

Magnus had settled himself on the little chaislong part of the couch, legs folded under himself as he talked animatedly with Simon.   

  “Yeah, I actually felt him kick the other day. It was so surreal to feel something moving beneath your girlfriends skin, like. I knew there was something living in there in a kind of hypothetical theoretical way. But now it’s all so much more real!” Magnus was gushing about his unborn baby, made all the more eager by a fresh victim to share all the gory details with. Simon was a willing participant, though, with his many questions and encouraging smile. 

  “Okay, enough with the baby-talk. - Not that I’m not exited about getting to meet my nephew, but we came here with another purpose in mind.” Ragnor cut over Magnus’ rant, leaning around Will to send Simon an intense look. “Simon. Raphael mentioned you go to NYU. How do you like the new coffee truck by the library?” 

  “Oh,” the confusion was clear in Simon’s voice. Raphael couldn’t help rolling his eyes, reaching out to slide the tips of his fingers along the small og Simon’s back in a sign of unspoken support. “I think it’s good. It’s a lifesaver, really.” 

  (***)

  “Your friends are officially incredible,” Simon said as he came back into the kitchen/livingroom. The squatters had only just left, and Raphael was getting a headstart on the cleaning up after an impromptu party. 

  “Yeah, they’re tolerable,” He turned around from the sink to smile at his slightly tipsy soulmate. “They seemed to like you, though, so that gives them a bump up the scale.” 

  “Yeah?” Simon snatched the dishtowel from Raphael’s shoulder, “You really think so?” Raphael hummed, passing over one of the crystal glasses he’d just washed. “Magnus sounds so exited about his baby. That’s so nice. But I thought you said his soulmate is kind of a bitch?” 

  “Camille?” Raphael raised an eyebrow at Simon, who was carefully and methodically polishing the glass in his hands, “Yeah, she is. Magnus may seem happy and upbeat now, but it’s nothing compared to how he used to be. Back then it came from his heart. It wasn't a mask. - The baby is changing that a bit, but. Camille doesn’t want children, so. I don’t know if it’ll last.” 

  “Oh.” Simon carefully placed the glass on the counter and used his freed-up hand to brush a few strands of hair off of Raphael’s forehead. “That sucks.” Raphael nodded, brusquely, keeping his eyes on the sink in front of him.  

  “Jem’s the only one who hasn’t found his soulmate, right? That’s kind of awesome.” Simon aske a while later, clearly trying to break the tension in the room. 

  “Actually, he has found his soulmate.” Raphael kept his eyes on the glasses swimming around in the soppy water. The memories of the night they’d found out was still too raw despite the years that had passed. “She didn’t want him, so.” 

  “Seriously? That sucks.” Simon, sensing Raphael’s distress moved closer, rubbing Raphael’s shoulder. Raphael huffed out a laugh leaning in to Simon’s touch. 

  “It really does. He nearly died, too. - Not because of the rejection. His kidneys were damaged. If it wasn’t for Cat, Ragnor and Magnus’ foster-sister, he wouldn’t be here today. She’s of in Chicago, that’s why you haven't met her.” As Raphael spoke, Simon snook his arms around Raphael, pressing himself closer. 

  “I look forward to meeting her.” Simon whispered into Raphael’s tempel, “From what I’ve heard, she’s quite the character.” 

  “She really is,” Raphael smiled, placing the final glass on the counter and twisting in Simon’s arms. “But enough talking about sad things. Tonight was good. Tonight was really good.” A bright smile spread over Simon’s face, and he tightened his hold on Raphael. “You survived meeting my friends.” Raphael trailed his fingers up Simon’s chest, withholding a smirk at the shiver that ran through his soulmate at the slight touch. “I’m proud of you,” Simon rolled his eyes, pinching Raphael’s side. 

  “Happy anniversary, Jerk.” he smirked, a soft smile sweetening the nickname. He leaned in to brush his nose over Raphael’s in an eskimo kiss. - Something he’d started doing instead of kissing Raphael on the lips. It took the pressure off of the both of them, and Raphael kind of loved him a little bit for the consideration. 

  “Happy anniversary, Bebé.” Raphael whispered into the tiny bit of air between them, returning Simon’s eskimo kiss.  

(***)

5 years later

  “Bye, guys! See you next week!” Simon called over his shoulders. He had been away for a full month, and that was, in Simon’s mind, quite long enough. Not that he didn’t love getting to tour with his band, The Yellow Meringues. (Yes, Raphael had laughed his cute little behind of when he’d first heard the name. No, Simon didn’t care. It was a great name. Raphael would just have to deal with it.) the tour had been a great opportunity, and Simon had loved every second of it. But he’d also missed his husband and his four-month-old so much it had been a constant physical pain in the tight space just below the ribs. Now they were only a short car ride away, and Simon was not about to waste any time on chit-chat with the people he’d been hanging out with all month. The laughter of the other band members followed his run out of the airport. 

Simon took the steps up to Magnus’ apartment three at a time. In his haste he nearly missed a step, and for a second he got to sarcastically remind himself that breaking his ankle wouldn’t mean getting to see his family any sooner. 

Soft music was floating out through the door propped open with a shoe. The flat was milling with people, all there to celebrate the bond between Magnus and one of the Ghosts of Simon’s past. For the longest time Simon had held a grudge against Alexander Lightwood. If it hadn’t been for him and his insane proposal, then maybe Simon’s best friend wouldn’t have had to run away. But by the time he and Raphael solved the mystery of Magnus’ sudden obsession with a parent from his school, Simon discovered that all malicious feelings towards the Lightwood had evaporated over time. He was more than happy to celebrate the evening with all the other people here. Later. For now he was a man on a mission, and the many faces were only obstacles in the way of him reaching his goal. 

  “Simon?” The gasped out name didn’t come from the man Simon was on the hunt for. Yet it did make him freeze in his tracks. He had known that there would be ghosts here tonight. But that this specific ghost would be one of them, he’d not even dared to dream. 

  “Max?!” he felt his voice tremble out of his throat, uncertain and confused. 8 years had passed since Simon had stood face to face with the boy he had grown up with. Last time Max had been pale and shaky, his eyes hidden in darkened shadows, as he’d said his goodbyes before disappearing out of a window. Now, he looked better. He looked good. His eyes had regained their brightness and his smile had found it’s old cheekiness. The one that had always meant trouble, growing up. His face had filled out, as it was bound to do, as Simon knew his own face had as well. Max wasn’t a boy anymore. Yet there was still a hint of the kid he used to be in the dimple in his cheek and gab between his front teeth. His hair was still a disarray, tips now colored blue. Eyeliner framed his dark-brown eyes, and a ring pierced his left eyebrow. He was as slim and gangly as he had been as a teenager. “Holy shit! You’re back?!” 

  “I am.” Max, only hesitating for a second, stepped forward to pull Simon in to a hug, pressing a kiss against his cheek in the same way as he had back on that night long ago. “It’s good to see you again.” 

  “Yeah, you too.” Simon’s voice still hadn’t lost its quiver as he tried to take all of it in. 

  “Can you believe my big brother actually got his head out his arse?” Max kept up his grin, though Simon had known him well enough, once, to see through it to the nervousness hiding behind. 

 “From what I heard, it needed quite a kick.” Simon smirked. Max huffed out a laugh, and nodded. 

  “Yeah, I heard that, too. God bless Lydia.” Max ducked his head to stare at the tip of his designer shoe. “Anyway, I didn’t expect to see you here?” He looked back up, an eyebrow raised in question. 

  “My soulmate is an old friend of Magnus’” Simon smiled, reminded of his quest to find his family.

 “Soulmate?” Both Max’ eyebrows shut up at that. His eyes skipped to the bare wrist sporting the sun now taking centre stage in the mark. “Well, what do you know. Congrats, man,” Max pulled Simon in for another tight hug. “I’d love to meet her, if you’ll let me.” 

  “Not a she,” Simon silently enjoyed the shocked laughter bursting from Max. “But I’d love for you to meet him, later. Him and my daughter, Maria,” Max was shaking his head, a stunned look on his face. 

  “The things you miss when you go under ground for 8 years,” he said. “Seems like you have quiet the story to tell. But now that I have a few more of the puzzle pieces, I think I know who you’re talking about. And if I’m right then your, I must add, very hot, soulmate and gorgeous baby-girl are waiting for you over in that corner there.” Simon’s eyes flickered to where Max nodded his head, to find Raphael already watching him. Simon’s heart jolted in his chest as it almost always did when he saw his husband. Being married for three and a half years didn't change that. “Go. I’ll catch you later.” Max gently pushed Simon forward by the shoulder, and he didn’t need more than that to set his feet in motion, carrying him quickly through the masses. 

Raphael’s eyes didn’t leave his face, even as he softly rocked Maria in his arms. When Simon finally reached his family he was met with a soft smile and a sweet eskimo kiss. “Hey, Bebé,” Raphael whispered, pressing a proper kiss to Simon’s lips. “Welcome home.”   

 

 

 

 


End file.
